So the Story Goes
by BrightSide of Nowhere
Summary: A quick look into their life shows that although the marriage has been rocky and people around them don’t think they will last, they do love each other. But, with one tiny problem showing its ugly head again, will Draco be able to tell his wife what he ne


**Title- So the Story Goes**

**Summary- A short HG/DM story, with the slight possibility of a sequel if reviewed. Draco tells this story in his own point of view, as he describes the marriage that he has had with Hermione for five years. A quick look into their life shows that although the marriage has been rocky and people around them don't think they will last, they do love each other. But, with one tiny problem showing its ugly head again, will Draco be able to tell his wife what he needs to say, and finally let the one thing that's missing from their marriage happen?**

**Warnings- Well, there is none. It's not filled with sex, there are no drugs involved. The story mentions, but does not detail, abuse.**

**A/N: Well, I'm rather proud of this. Every once in a while, I come up with a really neat one-shot idea and I run with it. So, here's what I got. If it's reviewed enough and people like it, I might turn give it a one-short sequel (would that in fact make it a two-short series?). Anyways that enough of my blabbering, read my story please. And when you get to the end, click that little button and review for me. I'd be ever so grateful. **

**-x-**

Hermione is like a drug, and not the kind of drug that you do every once in a while. She is like the kind of drug that you crave with every fiber of your being, the kind of drug that you couldn't live without, the kind of drug that makes you happier than you ever dreamed. Well, at least that is how I describe her.

She had given up long ago on trying to tame me. When my temper got out of hand, she would fight at me with everything she had. More than once we ended in fist fights, more than once I had to take her to the hospital. In the Muggle world, I was beating her. In the Wizarding world, I was controlling her. In our world, I loved her and she loved me. She was the only woman I knew that would stand up to me in my fits of anger. She knew if there was no scapegoat for my anger than I was likely to kill someone. And she'd rather have me beat her, then have me live in Azkaban for the rest of my life.

A lot of her friends told her, and some still do, that she should leave me, and they yelled at me for being selfish. They thought that I was using her, as a punching bag and as a whore. They didn't know, and perhaps they never will, how I truly feel about her. That's another thing she had given up, she had given up trying to explain me to everyone she cares for. They all threatened to leave her, let her face this on her own, but none of them have the balls to do it. They all thought I would kill her one day, or at least force her to the point of leaving, and they all had their motives for staying around to see that. Ron wanted to be there to 'care' for her. Harry wanted to be given a reason to kill me. Severus wanted to see me kill the annoying little Gryffindor, then torture me with it for the rest of my life. My father, who had been stripped of both his power and his name, wanted to see me kill her and regain some dignity in his eyes and his name.

My father. Now there was someone who hated what we had more than anyone else. Was the reason because I hit her? No. Was it because she hit me too? No. It wasn't even the fact that we shagged all the time, made a fortune because we were brilliant, and had everything that he had been stripped of. No, my father hated us because I had given a mudblood his family name. He had to watch as she sauntered through town, obviously picking up on my charm and appearance as a prominent member of society, with the whole world knowing that she was a Malfoy. My mother would probably have been turning in her grave if she knew that Hermione was my wife, the lady of my new Malfoy manor. But, I didn't care. That was one thing that I had given up. I had finally been able to break away from my father during the war, thanks to her help, and now I was no longer afraid of him. Lucius Malfoy was no longer a feared man anymore, and I knew that.

Life with Hermione was better than I thought, although the fighting took its toll on us. We had calmed down; at least I had, since the first three years of our marriage. We had been young back then, marrying directly after the final battle. Two years after leaving that blasted school; where we had been forced to hate each other based on House, breeding, and friends; we were wed. Everyone was there, just to see if it was really true. There were so many people who thought it was a hoax, that they were still amazed that we stayed together five years after the wedding.

No kids though, and most people saw that as a sign. Harry had tried to convince Hermione, once and just once, that I didn't want her to bear any children because I didn't want to mix my pureblood with her mudblood. But, Harry was wrong and I let Hermione know it in the most violent way. It was the biggest fight we had had in three years, and it's the last fight we have had in the past two. She nearly died I was so angry at him, and for once I had gotten angry at her too. She believe him, for the slightest minute all that old fear of being the 'mudblood whore' came back to her and she thought his words to be true. I had used my wand that night, hitting her with a curse that would have killed her, had I truly intended to. She was in St. Mungo's for a week and I almost lost her then. We haven't fought since then; I have yet to raise my voice to her. I didn't want her dead, and I knew that was the path I was taking.

But kids, oh the stories behind why there where no kids. Most common was the pureblood/mudblood comments, which most people had learned to keep under their breath. I had to reassure her; nothing about our lack of reproducing had anything to do with her breeding. It had everything to do with mine. I didn't think myself to be better than her, that my children would be better if they were bred with a pureblood girl like Parkinson. I was quite the opposite; I thought her blood would do my pureblood some good. It was damned time that the Malfoy name was brought down a few notches, although I had done a great deal to that with my marriage. No, the reason I didn't want kids was something I had yet to tell her. And that night, when I walked into the door of the house and saw her sitting in the chair by the fire, holding the pregnancy results in her hands, I knew I had to tell her. I walked in, unsure of whether I would force another abortion on her or not.

**-x-**

"It's positive?" I asked, although I knew the answer. That chair was reserved for this occasion. I refused to use the Muggle contraceptives and spells where sometimes forgotten. When she faced that chair towards the fire, she had taken a test. Sometimes it was negative, and I celebrated by ripping her knickers off and shagging her right there. When it was positive, the feeling the room would get cold and the fire would do nothing to warm us. It had only been positive once before, and I had asked her to get an abortion. She nodded and I sighed. Pulling a chair up, I sat in an angle to her. I could see some of her face, although her eyes were hidden. I knew she wasn't crying, Hermione hadn't cried since the war ended. But I knew that she was worried about what I would do, and I knew that she should be. I loved my wife, despite the rumors. People didn't understand how I could love someone that I used hit when I was angry, who I had forced into getting an abortion, and who I rarely said the words 'I love you' to, but I did love her. And most of the time she knew it; it was just moments like this when she doubted it. "Do you want to keep it?" I asked. I took in her small form as she moved the chair to face me. She was a beautiful woman, no man could deny that. She had soft, delicate curves that I loved to trace with my hands. Her wild and curly hair had tamed, just enough to lie in semi-wild curls. She had let it grow; now it came to the small of her back. She was a wondrous example of a woman, and I chuckled sometimes when I remembered her awkward teenage years. She used to tell me she hated me, because I never went through an awkward-looking period. I just replied that it was against my breeding to and she quickly let the subject drop. She looked at me with those golden-hazel eyes, the same ones that begged me to please her when she couldn't say the words. I found that there was sadness there and doubt.

She chuckled, but it wasn't filled with happiness. There was a tinge of anger and disappointment in her voice and I shivered. Sometimes, Hermione grew colder than my father. Sometimes she lost that love for life and that intelligence she had, and she became a cold shell. It rarely last for more then a few minutes, and it wasn't ever really her. I knew that she sometimes had these moments where she became cold, as she had been in the final battles. Hermione was at her worst then, she scared even her own friends. She viewed death and killing as a tactic in war and she rarely let any emotion out of her in those months. We all thought we had lost her, but she returned the same old Hermione, just more life behind her eyes. "Don't play games with me Malfoy, nor should you act like I have a choice in the matter." Her voice held that same tone.

I wanted more than anything to say that her words weren't true. But, before now, she was right. And she had every right to think that I wouldn't give her a choice in the matter. "I asked, didn't I?" I tried to keep the emotion out of my voice, but I knew the more we went into this conversation, the more emotion I would let out. This was by far the hardest conversation that we had ever had, and I knew that it would probably be the hardest ever. In order for this to work, for her to understand, I had to reveal something about me that, although she may have suspected, she didn't know.

Softness came over the harsh look in her eyes and I exhaled in relief. She looked me dead in the eyes, searching for clues. She was always a thinker, always wanted to find things, rather than be told. But she knew, and I knew, that she would get no clues in my eyes. Since I was old enough to understand, my father taught me to keep my emotion out of my eyes. I thought it was to help me get ahead in life, only did I later realize that it was to be used for evil. "Given the choice, I wouldn't know how to answer. You've had a reason, all these years, for not wanting a child. A reason that you shag me senseless when it's negative and a reason that you asked for the abortion the one time it was positive. I can't make this choice without knowing why you didn't, or still don't, want a child."

I smiled. "You are too smart Granger. Any other woman would think about that fact that I have so strongly wished against a child that their only real choice was to say no. Then again, all other woman bore me." She smiled, and I knew that her moment of coldness was gone. It was only then that I realized that the room had not gotten cold; as it had the last time she announced that it was positive. She knew that there was something going through my head about the child. "I suppose you wish to know why I asked you this time." She nodded. "I've thought a lot about it, ever since that last time it was positive. I won't lie to you Hermione, and you know that. I didn't want that child and I don't regret asking you to get rid of it. But all these years of not wanting children, I knew the next time we had a scare I would need a reason for my not wanting a child." I stopped, unable to form the words quite yet.

She sensed that this was something that I had thought a lot about, and she knew it was a rare moment where I would share my soul with her. I had only done this on two occasions, only two times had she ever seen my inner fears. The first time was when she saw me switch sides in the battle and have to face against my mother and father. The second time is when rumors spread about our destructive behavior to each other, and I had to admit how much I really did love her. "Is it that hard for you to say Draco?" She asked in a soft, loving voice.

"You've only heard something like this twice before." I replied. Her eyes widen and she sat back. She knew now not to rush me that I would tell her at my own pace. I was ready to tell her, I knew that I had to. But I didn't want to seem weak. She told me once that I didn't have to be the strong one all the time, that she wouldn't think any less of me if I wasn't. She had seen me cry a total of three times; when I killed my own mother in an attempt to kill my father, when I nearly lost her to my own doing, and when I fought with Severus. I knew that my raising had a lot to do with why I stayed so strong, but it was also one of the only things that I really saw as being a good trait. "Hermione, you know the reason has nothing to do with mixing your 'mudblood' with my 'pureblood'. I rather think it would do the Malfoy name good to have something other than pureblood, those times are over." I stopped, it was a little hard to still say the word mudblood, even if she was now used to it. "The blame for why I don't want children lies within me and me alone, although my father does have a lot to do with it." She opened her mouth to speak. "No, let me say this." She should know not to interrupt me, but she was a passionate person and always wanted to speak her mind, it was one of the things I loved about her. "You see," I stopped; this was harder to say than I thought. This was quickly becoming the weakest she had ever seen me, and although I didn't like it, it was necessary. "You see, my father and I don't along anymore. In fact, I doubt that I ever did get along with him. At one point there was a great deal of respect for him, until I realized who he truly was. I never loved him, never. I saw him as more of a teacher on how to be the perfect Malfoy, rather than a father. Severus was more like a father to me; in fact I love Severus in that way that I could never love my own father. My mother was not much of a difference, although she wasn't as cold as my father. She was still a stone woman, and not there enough to truly be a mother to me. It's amazing that I managed to make it out of that house with more emotional flaws than I have." I stopped for a quick breath. That was the easy part, the part of my history that she already knew. Now, now was the hard part. Now is where I let her see me. "Gods Hermione, you of all people should know how emotionally flawed I am. It takes all I can to say that I love you, three words that you just didn't say in my house. My father rarely said that to my mother, and NEVER said that to me. You should know how I am; you've been married to me for five years. I don't show emotion, I wasn't raised to. No matter how hard I try, I just don't seem to grasp the concept. I hope that you know by now how I feel; I think you gave up a long time ago on getting me to say it. But kids, they need that emotion. They need to hear that they are loved, see their father have more emotion then just anger and disappointment. I don't think I'm ready to raise a child, worse I'm afraid I'll raise them like my father raised me and they will hate me for it. I look at my father now and I feel disgusted that he raised me and gave me life. I hate him with every fiber in my being and I would have killed him if my mother hadn't saved his sorry arse. I don't want my children to think of me that way."

Tears had formed in her eyes and I knew that she understood how hard it was for me to say that. "Draco, I've been with you for five years. Three of those years we fought so much that I was in the hospital a lot and I nearly died. For the first few months, you still called me Granger. Hell, you still do occasionally, although I think that's more for fun then anything else. We've been through a lot of shit, and any other woman would have left you long ago. I have to hear people say it's a pity that I'm book smart but don't have the common sense to walk away from you. I have to hear all the time about people saying that I was just a lonely, awkward girl who married the first bloke that wanted a taste. But they don't see us, and they don't know us. They are still talking about pure and mudbloods for Merlin's sake. I know there is emotion in you, I know how you feel, and maybe one day I'll see it on a more regular basis. But this fear of being your father, it's silly. First, because I would be partly responsible for raising this child and I am filled with love. Second, because despite the bastard that your father was, some of the things he taught you were, in a sense, practical. You ask me if I want to keep this child, my answer is yes. I do Draco, I want to keep it. I want to raise it with you. Maybe a kid is the final straw to breaking down that shield you have around you."

Before I knew it, I left my chair and stalked over to her. I captured her lips with my own and kissed her. She moaned in my mouth and I knew that she was as happy to have me close to her as I was. "Keep it then," I said. "We'll raise it, and if it goes well, we might have another.'' She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me again as I picked her up and put her on her feet. "I love you Hermione Malfoy." I said between kisses. She broke away from me and looked in my eyes. She smiled. "What's so amusing?"

"Take your pick, the fact that you just told me you loved me without having to rehearse it, or the fact that I can see it in your eyes." She smirked and let go of me, slowly walking back towards the bedroom.

"I hope a good shag won't hurt that kid, cause I'm about to shag the hell out of you." She turned and ran towards the bedroom, and I took my time stalking her. I let myself smile, just as she was out of sight. I found that I was doing that a lot lately, smiling when I thought of her and how much I truly did love her. I was lucky, and I knew it, that she married me and luckier that she stuck with me all these years. Maybe this 'showing emotion' thing, that my passionate wife was so animate about, was wearing on me.

**-x-**

**A/N: So there you go, what do you think? Well, I won't know unless you review it. So, click the button and make me very happy. BTW, I mostly always read my reviewers fics, so if you got a story you think I will enjoy, just write that at the end of your review. I'm on the look out for a new DM/HG fanfiction and I can never get enough HG/SS fics either. :)**


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